For a Girl by J.T. D'Arelli (classic literature books TXT) 📕

The following morning, Sue and I chatted before class. I was concentrating very hard not to let my worries about running sour our mood as we made a date for the weekend.

"A movie again?" I asked her — smiling into her blue eyes.

"Sure. We'll rent something from the video store."

"Don't you want to go out?"

Sue was no couch potato — she usually preferred activities for a date — bowling, class parties, dances, etc. Milford was hardly a cosmopolitan hotbed, but there was often something going on. Of course, I had the usual ulterior motive of any teenage boy. There are a lot of quiet rural roads around town...

"Actually, my family's gone until Sunday — they left me behind to housesit for a couple of days — so we'll have the place to ourselves."

She smiled at me impishly, then turned and walked away - while I stood there thunderstruck. Was she implying what I hoped she was?

Of course, I wouldn't presume to know the mind of a girl. Still, maybe she really was ready...

It was with a lighter heart that I went to the clinic for my follow-up appointment. I was surprised to find my mother there — apparently, the doctor had called her in. My elation over Sue faded as we both were escorted into the Doc's office.

Strangely, Doctor Wilson was in his office as well. An attractive, 40-ish woman with short blond hair, she was the town OB/GYN. Why would she be here?

The Doc entered the room. Both had serious looks on their faces, yet they didn't seem to radiate too much tension.

"I take it it's not mono." I said.

"The tests came back negative." he replied.

My mother spoke, a look of fear on her face. "It's not something terminal, is it?"

Doc smiled. "No, nothing like that. Jack is in excellent health. But I'd better let Doctor Wilson explain."

The woman spoke for the first time. "Have you heard of Gender Biomorphism?"

"Sure." I responded. "It's that weird syndrome that turns boys into gir- Oh my GOD!"

I fell back into my chair. I managed to gasp out: "Don't tell me..."

"I'm afraid so, Jack." Dr. Wilson replied. "The tests confirmed it — the transformation is already well underway."

I was in utter shock. I couldn't even begin to grasp this. HIV or cancer would have been less stunning. I'd never even considered this. I was going to be a... a girl? No freaking way! Frozen in place, I felt like I was disconnected from my body. I could hear the conversation continue — but as if from a great distance.

"Are you sure?" my mother asked. "I've not heard of a case around here."

Doctor Wilson replied. "Jack is the first in the entire county. As soon as we got the results from the initial run we rushed them to Syracuse. They verified it independently. Jack is becoming female — same as the others."

The others. Dear Lord. Gender Biomorphism, or GB for short, had been around for several years now. The first cases had been documented in such sterling publications as the National Enquirer and Weekly World News. Gender-bending was long a staple of the supermarket tabloid set. Most folks, including myself, just laughed. But when the Center for Disease Control verified the existence of the phenomenon, everyone took notice. By the time the 60 Minutes crew did their profile, no one was laughing anymore.

I tried to remember what I had heard. Somewhere around 6000 boys across the country had been affected — with a few hundred more each month. There was absolutely no pattern - nothing to track its spread. GB could show up anytime, anywhere. It was just one of its many mysteries. Girls were not affected, only boys changed. And only teenagers seemed to fall victim — there had been no recorded cases in anyone over 18.

My mother had a shocked look on her face. "How... how long does he have?" I realized it was like asking the doctor how much time I had to live. I felt the same way.

"The transition should be complete in about 3 days. As you may know, it's a gradual process until the final stage. The body prepares slowly at first — chromosomal, skeletal, etc. Then, it's like an asymptotic curve — the more dramatic, visible changes happen in just a couple of hours."

Dramatic. Visible. That would mean... breasts.

Among other things.

Oh, God, no.

I felt myself grow dizzy as my breathing increased. The doctors quickly had me lower my head and gave me some water. My hands were shaking — I glanced at my mother. Her face was drained of color, and I wondered if she was feeling faint, too.

After I calmed down, I was ready to continue.

"How?" I asked.

"You mean how did you get it?" Dr Wilson looked at me. I nodded.

She continued. "We don't know. As you may already be aware, GB has defied the best scientific minds on the planet. There is no common vector, no path for us to follow — so there is no way to predict where it strikes next, or why."

"Is there anything that can be done?"

"No. We've tried a variety of responses on other boys - hormone and gene therapies, metabolic rate reductions, and so on. Nothing works, nothing even delays the impact. No matter what the treatment, every boy affected becomes female."

And so I asked the final question. "How female?"

Dr Wilson paused for a moment and looked at me sympathetically. "Completely. In fact, after GB has finished with you, there will be no way for even a doctor to tell you were once a boy."

I sat there in a state of glum amazement. The Doc spoke. "There's no easy way to put it, Jack. I've known you and your Mom for many years so I know how strong you both are. Here's a time when you will need that strength."

He spoke again. "Jack, the reality is this — by Monday you will be a girl."

Silence among all four of us. It was just too bizarre to comprehend.

"So how do we prepare?" my mother finally asked.

"I've already made arrangements for Jack to be enrolled in the Gender Reorientation Seminar up in Syracuse." Dr Wilson replied.

"You mean Girl School?" I snorted derisively.

"That's the colloquial phrase for it — but don't mock it. GRS is a valuable tool in helping you to transition."

I'd read about GRS as well. After it became apparent that GB was not going away, and was impacting an increasingly larger number of boys, many states set up special facilities for those affected. At first, GRS clinics were just isolated places to endure the physical change in private, away from the media and other vultures. Later, more sophisticated support services were added, including psychological counseling and even training in such feminine activities as cosmetics and hair-styling.

Hence the derogatory name: Girl School. And now I would have to attend. I shuddered.

"Will he be in any pain?" Mom asked. She still had a worried look on her face and I was reassured by how much she cared.

"None — although there is considerable disorientation during the final stages, no one has reported anything like pain. Chances are, he'll be asleep during the end."

'The end' — good way to put it.

They continued their conversation for a few more minutes - setting up the details of where and when I would report to GRS. Meanwhile, I just sat there — still unable to get my mind around it all.

In the car, my mother and I were quiet. Both of us remained in a state of shock. There were other emotions at work, too. For me, my shock was mixed with horror. Everything, EVERYTHING, about my life was going to be different. Friends, family, school — hell, even my very voice would... change. And I felt certain it would be a change for the worse. It was just too overwhelming to accept.

Like me, I could sense my mother had other feelings besides shock. As I caught her glancing at me, I could see sympathy, worry and... curiosity. I knew she was thinking the same thing I was.

What kind of girl would I be?

I wasn't sure of the impact of GB on appearance — that is, did the boys affected come out looking like their mothers? I took a long look at Mom while she drove. You know how it is as a teenager — it's next to impossible to judge the attractiveness of one's own parents. I mean, c'mon, who can imagine their folks as real people? They're just Mom and Dad.

So for perhaps the first time in my life, I really looked at Mom, the way a male would stare at a female. And I had to admit — she was pretty. Very pretty. About 5'6". Fine, collar-length, medium brown hair, big blue eyes, smooth skin, full breasts... oh God.

Would I look like that? I remembered overhearing her bridge-club friends complimenting Mom on her attractiveness. Once, Hal had remarked that my mother was a 'babe' — which gave me the creeps. Kind of like when Candace Bergen played Garth's mom on Wayne's World — and was drooled over by Mike Meyers. I'd felt the same way Garth had — she was my mother, not a... a woman!

But now I realized that I might very well end up with a similar appearance. And that really depressed me. I didn't want to imagine myself as a female — but looking at my mother was creating a picture in my mind of what was going to happen to me.

We arrived home — I just sat down on the couch, too overwhelmed to move. Mom sat down next to me and put her arms around me. I let her do so. We didn't hug often — but now I suddenly felt a deep need to be comforted.

She spoke. "Jack, I'm not going to insult you by saying I understand what you are going through. I really can't imagine what it's going to be like. But I want you to know I love you, I'm here for you and I'll help you in every way I can."

"Like taking me bra-shopping?" I said bitterly.

"You know that's not what I meant."

I sighed. "I know, Mom, and really, I am grateful. It's just too much to accept. I can't even begin to cope with this."

"I'll help you — you are my child, whatever your gender, and come what may, I'll accept you for who you are."

"That's sweet, Mom, and I know you mean it. But that's the problem. Just who am I? I mean, being a boy, growing up as a guy — that's all I know. More to the point, that's all I want to know."

"I'll help you to learn. And you may find — if you give it a chance — you might even like it. I enjoyed being a girl and I've loved being a woman even more. There are advantages, you know."

"Like wearing short skirts on hot days?" I said, a bit mockingly.

She chuckled. "That's one of the minor ones. Actually, I've always felt there's a certain kind of... magic with femininity that men miss out on. Of course, I might be biased."

"Gee, do you think?" I muttered.

"Look, Jack, I'm not trying to say things will be the same. We're both realists. Your life will change. Our life together will change — but it doesn't have to be a nightmare. There are worse fates that being an attractive young lady."

Maybe she was right. I mean, how bad could becoming a girl really be? Sure, I'd need some new clothes and new running shoes and...

Oh no. Running.

And suddenly it came crashing down on me. Now I knew why my workout times had been getting worse.

I was turning into a girl. And girls are slower than boys. A lot slower...

That meant that I, too, would be slo... oh God. I sprinted for my room and fired up my computer.

I'd long since memorized the high school, national and world